The Course of Empire
by SailingAwaySoftly
Summary: Geneva West had always been his best friend, his confidante, his own personal bright star, and yet Barty couldn't bring himself to reveal his deepest secrets. Banished to the fringes, she watches as his life spirals to the darkest circles of hell. Ficlet.
1. The Savage State

Bartemius Crouch, Jr., Barty to nearly everyone who knew him, stood hidden behind musty old robes and found himself feeling quite foolish indeed. Why his friends had decided to play Hide-and-Seek, a terribly childish game, in the last throes of summer was beyond his comprehension. And yet, here he was, taking part and having found one of the best hiding spots in the Martin household, or so he thought. Barty heard the distinct clicking of shoe heels in the corridor and shifted slightly, pressing himself further against the back wall and adjusting the hanging clothes in front of him.

The door was suddenly wrenched open, flooding the impossibly small room with light before it was quickly drawn shut. He heard the short gasps of a small someone who now stood, completely unawares, directly in front of him. He had caught a glimpse of the loose, bouncy brown curls of one Geneva West. Barty, a smirk on his face, gently pushed the robes aside, and they gently gave way with a soft scratch against the wood pole they hung upon. Thankfully, the short girl now within reach had not noticed, and Barty carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shhh," he breathed in her ear, pulling her closer. She began writhing in his grasp.

"Gee, calm down," he whispered, "it's just me."

She immediately relaxed in his arms, her breathing still irregular, when she reached a hand up and pulled his away from her mouth.

"Why didn't you say this was taken? I would've hidden somewhere else!" she hissed.

Barty merely smiled in response, deciding against answering when they heard the shrill voice of Eliza Martin calling down the corridor. Geneva and Barty held their breath as her loud footsteps echoed just beyond the door. She suddenly halted, and both feared they would be discovered after a few moments of silence. However, a loud crash from somewhere far down at the other end of the hall halted Eliza just as she was reaching for the golden doorknob, and she immediately turned and set off in the direction from which she had come, eager to find the sorry soul who had knocked over some relic or another.

The two seventeen year olds in the closet fell into a fit of muffled laughter, pleased at the sheer luck of the situation.

"We've got to thank whoever that was," Geneva whispered as she moved to stand next to Barty against the wall of the closet.

Barty rearranged the hanging clothes to cover them, "Three guesses who."

"Probably Anemone."

"Yeah, I was thinking that too," Barty nodded.

A comfortable silence fell between the pair. Geneva gently brushed against Barty as she fidgeted with her clothing, a habit that signaled her descent into deep thought.

"What're you thinking about?" Barty whispered.

Geneva turned to look up at Barty in the darkness, "What business is it of yours?"

Barty smiled, gently nudging her. "Thinking about that snog with Mark?"

Geneva made a face, accompanied by a garbled sound from the back of her throat. "Please, let's never speak of that again," she murmured.

"Oh, was it _that _bad?"

"He was slobbery, like a dog," she grumbled.

"I noticed."

"It was awful. And, I never get that back," she muttered to herself. "Merlin dammit, that was it."

Barty's brows furrowed as he turned slightly to look down at her, producing his wand from his pocket and muttering a quiet '_Lumos'._

Geneva's face was covered by her small hands. She shook her head, murmuring indecipherable nonsense.

Barty reached a hand forward, wrapping his hand around her wrist, attempting to pull it away. She reluctantly let him do so as he moved his face closer to hers.

"Sorry, I speak English, Gee, mind saying that again?"

She huffed, "It's nothing. Nothing at all."

Barty cocked his head to the side, searching her eyes. "Hmm?" he hummed.

Her face immediately morphed from one of distorted pain and discomfort to a perky smile, her eyes twinkling. "No matter," she said, dismissing whatever had bothered her with two light taps of his cheek.

He scrunched up his face in return and was about to say something when-

"Aha!" Eliza triumphantly cried, throwing the robes to the side and revealing the close, startled bodies of Geneva and Barty.

"And it appears," Eliza began in a snooty tone as she pulled the pair from the closet, "I caught the pair in the act! Couldn't get enough of a snog with Mark then, eh Gee?"

Geneva flushed and quickly separated herself from Barty, her eyes cast to the floor.

Barty merely rolled his eyes.

* * *

Barty and Geneva sat later, looking up at the dark night sky, on the hilltop that separated their families' properties. The night was still and cool, the only sounds were of crickets and their breaths.

Barty looked over at Geneva as she tried to stifle a yawn, "You sure you'll last until sunrise, Gee?"

She pulled a face, "'Course I can, Barty. I'm not a child."

He gently nudged her with his elbow, bringing a smile to her lips as she slipped her hands into the depths of her sleeves.

The next yawn she couldn't hide, and Barty couldn't help to snort as she finally finished. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Barty laughed, shirking her from his shoulder.

"Oh, please," she moaned, wrapping an arm around his chest.

He groaned. "At least let me get more comfortable," he gave in as he leaned back, his arms behind his head.

She hung over him for a minute, her face very near to his face. "See, being nice isn't so difficult, is it?" she breathed.

Barty couldn't help but to let his eyes linger on her lips as her smile faded. She nestled next to him, resting her head on his chest, her fingers barely peeking out from the long sleeves of his jumper.

"You _better_ wake me up before sunrise," she said sleepily, emphasizing her words by lazily poking his chest.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, go to sleep," he said softly.

It seemed not two hours had passed when Barty gently shook Geneva's shoulder, pulling her from her sleep.

She mumbled something as she nestled further into his chest.

"Gee," he barked loudly. She sat up suddenly, her arms flailing.

"What? What's happened?" she asked, desperately looking around.

"It's almost sunrise," Barty smiled gently.

"Oh," she said softly, slumping and bringing her hands into her lap as she crossed her legs. "Right. I knew that."

He snorted, sitting up beside her. She elbowed him.

"What was _that _for?" he groaned, rubbing his wounded ribcage.

"You didn't need to startle me to wake me up."

He smiled. "Aw, was Little Gee scared?" he asked cheekily.

She huffed and turned her attention to the horizon. He chuckled.

"Barty?"

He hummed in response, his arms resting on his knees as the first inklings of pink and gold began to appear in the dark blue sky.

"Is this year going to be different?"

He turned and looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, with You-Know-Who," she trailed off, biting her lower lip.

Barty shifted uncomfortably, "It'll be the same as last year, I think."

"But, Regulus Black?" she asked, turning to him. "He died for, for _him_."

Barty stared blankly at his companion, hoping he appeared indifferent and that his exceptionally brilliant friend would not see past his calm façade.

"It was his choice, and you weren't exactly his best mate-"

"So what? I'm not allowed to care for fellow students? Since when were you so heartless, Barty?" she asked, an edge to her voice. She suddenly stood, rearranging her clothes before she turned to leave.

Barty stood quickly and pulled her to him, effectively stopping her in her tracks. He looked down at her, his dark eyes searching hers.

"You don't mean that," he said softly.

She began to struggle against his chest. "Yes, I do," she snapped. He held her closer, giving her a squeeze, and raised an eyebrow.

His eyes once again wandered to her lips for a time, and, when he came out of his brief reverie, he found Gee to be looking evenly up at him. Something in his mind told him she was daring him to do it, egging him on because she was just as curious as he was.

He didn't fancy her, at least he didn't think he did. But he _had_ wondered what it might be like to have a good snog with the one girl who had been the bright star throughout his childhood and teenage years. What man wouldn't? And so, throwing caution to the wind, Barty Crouch Jr. leaned down and pressed his lips against Geneva's, and hoped to Merlin he hadn't just destroyed the one friendship he had been so dependent upon.

To his surprise, Geneva leaned into the kiss and even began to reciprocate before abruptly pulling away.

She searched his eyes, "What was that for?"

"Er," Barty shrugged, his arms dropping to his side.

Geneva rolled her eyes, "I'm going to head home. See you at the platform, I suppose."

* * *

"Gee, about earlier," Barty began as he sidled past her into the small compartment after their brief trip to the trolley.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said haughtily as the interested gazes of their friends turned in the direction of the pair.

Barty rolled his eyes, lowering his voice, "I just wanted to apologise."

"Well, let's just pretend it never happened, and you'll have nothing to apologise for."

He could tell from her tone that the discussion wouldn't be going much further. Geneva promptly buried her nose in a thick tome, disappearing behind its leather binding.

Barty sighed and gently rubbed his left forearm, which was throbbing with a dull pain. He leaned his head back and turned to look out the rain-splattered window as the Hogwarts Express charged onward to his seventh year.

* * *

**So this is just a little fic-let to get the creative juices flowing for my other fics. I've sort of been spinning this story since the end of summer, but only recently got the inspiration for it in my American Art History course. To give you a brief background, **_**The Course of Empire**_** is a series of five large-scale paintings by Thomas Cole. Each chapter will share the title of a piece in the series, which is why this one is called **_**The Savage State**_**. I encourage you to look up the images as they come! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and I do hope to convert some of my loyal readers to Barty Crouch Jr. who honestly needs a little more love in the fanfiction world. ****Do review!**** Until next time, most humbly yours.**


	2. The Pastoral State

It was a cold night in late January. Geneva sat quietly at a back table in the Hogwarts Library, her eagle feather quill scratching away at her parchment as she frantically scribbled down notes. She had only an hour left before the library would close and Madam Pince would banish her from its depths. Although she had told herself many times before that she wouldn't fall behind on her coursework, she found she always did. It seemed Barty or Scabior consistently pulled her into their schemes or runs to Hogsmeade through the secret passageways, and thus she was forced to finish her work at the last possible minute.

She furiously ended her sentence with a full stop, having decided she would refuse to take part in their outrageous plans from that moment on. She sat up, stretching her back and surveying her remote corner of the library. Geneva saw a familiar figure sauntering her way, and, with a huff, she turned her attention back to the book in front of her.

The chair scratched along the floor as Barty pulled it out and gracefully sat in it.

"Gee-"

"No," Geneva interrupted.

"But I haven't even said anything!"

"I _know_ you're going to say something along the lines of, 'Gee, we were fancying a run to Broomsticks, thought you'd like to come along,' or 'Gee, we just thought of the best prank to play on Peeves,' and my answer is a firm and resounding 'No,'" she hissed harshly.

Barty shrugged, "And if neither of those were it?"

Geneva, though her curiosity was tugging at her like an incessant child, refused to look up because she knew that looking Barty in the eyes would be the end-all to her resolve.

And so, she didn't respond.

Barty leaned forward on his elbows, trying to make eye contact with the stubborn girl before him. Still, she refused.

He sighed. "I really didn't want to have to do this," he said softly.

Before Geneva could even finish asking "What?", Barty had pulled the book from in front of her, closed it, and sent it to the top of the highest shelf behind him.

After he finished admiring his handiwork, he turned to face his best friend with a smirk on his mouth.

"Why did you do that?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"So you'd listen to me, now," Barty began, leaning forward again and placing his warm hand over hers, forcing her to lower her quill. "I need your infinite wealth of knowledge and expertise."

Geneva rolled her eyes, "I already said no. Haven't you bothered me enough the past week?"

"Yes, I have, but this is actually something you'll enjoy, I think," he said softly, looking earnestly into her eyes.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair. "You have one minute to explain yourself, sir."

"Alright, the other day I found this room by complete accident. I don't know what it's called, or if it even has a name, but there's something very peculiar about it, and I was thinking that you would certainly know something of it should I take you there. Plus, I think it might provide you with a quiet place to finish your work, given your current situation," he whispered in one breath.

"Where is it?"

"That's the surprise, you see," Barty said, leaning back in his chair and matching Geneva's gaze evenly, quietly challenging her to follow him.

After a brief stare-down, Geneva groaned, "Fine."

As Geneva stood and unceremoniously dumped her things into her satchel, she muttered to herself, "This is the _last_ time."

* * *

Skeptically, Geneva watched as Barty paced back and forth several times in front of a certain length of the corridor. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she nervously glanced at her watch, knowing full well that they were going to miss curfew.

"Barty, how much longer-"

And with that, a door seemed to carve itself from the stone wall, and Barty finally gripped the knob, pulling it open.

He bowed dramatically, "After you, m'lady."

Awestruck, Geneva found herself in a cozy room that was very similar to the parlour in her home. A fire crackled and a large Turkish rug covered the hearth. She turned to look at Barty.

"How did you say you found this place?"

"I didn't," he smirked, casually leaning against a mahogany column. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, of course," she breathed.

"Good," he smiled. "I hope I got everything right."

She nodded before snatching a pillow from the sofa and sitting on the floor. She continued to survey the room from where she sat, her brow furrowed.

"I think this is the Room of Requirement," she concluded finally.

"Yeah?" Barty asked as he sat beside her.

"Mmhmm."

A comfortable silence settled over them. Geneva once again pulled out her essay, setting to work on it once she determined that her companion would not be a nuisance. Barty stared into the fire, mulling over all the thoughts that had been buzzing through his mind since he and Geneva had returned home for winter holiday.

Unlike the many years before, Barty was often elsewhere, and when he returned to his room, he would find a small stack on notes on his desk, asking where he was, if he was still alive, if he was upset with her, if she would see him in the foreseeable future...

It hadn't been his intention to worry her, but he knew he couldn't tell her where he was going, who he was with, or what he was doing. She would hate him for what he was becoming. As accepting and loving as Geneva was, he knew she would try to save him, and she would put up a valiant effort once she came to terms with who he was, but he just couldn't let that happen. Deep down, he cared for her much the same as she did for him.

Yes, very, very deep down, Barty Crouch, Jr. could admit to himself that he did indeed love Geneva West, but he knew he couldn't utter those words to her. It would complicate everything. It was better that they carried on as they did, Geneva completely unaware of all the trouble he was tangling himself up in. It was none of her concern anyway, he had concluded. What business was it of hers?

But then he thought of all the times she had been there, ready to meet him on that hilltop, whenever he needed to escape his house, escape the presence of his father. He thought of how she always knew the right thing to say to comfort him when he yelled and broke more than a few things in her room in his blind anger towards his father's apparent dislike of him. And then he thought of the kiss they had shared before the beginning of term...

Once he started thinking about that as he lie in his bed late at night or so very near her in front of her fireplace, he knew Geneva was not simply his best friend. She kept him grounded to this earth, kept him from being so wholly consumed by his reverence of the Dark Lord and all his power.

He had kissed her again, this time on Christmas Eve after he had unwrapped a small box, carefully wrapped in a golden paper. Inside was a silver pocketwatch, to which she had softly explained she thought he might like once since he hadn't received one on his birthday. He pulled her too him, kissing her deeply, hoping to convey his thanks without stumbling over stupid words.

Barty was brought back to the present when he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

"Thanks, Barty," Geneva murmured softly. She had long since finished her work and had returned everything to her bag which now sat a short distance from her.

Barty smiled softly, shrugging nonchalantly, before returning his gaze to the fire. She scooted closer to him. There was a pang in Barty's chest and the growing warmth from her leg pressing against his. In an attempt to clear his mind from an increasing amount of rather ridiculous thoughts, he cleared his throat.

He could feel her looking up at him. Slowly, he turned to return her steady gaze. If he was reading her parted lips and hungry eyes correctly, she had been thinking the very same thoughts as he. He reached a hand out to cup her cheek.

"Barty," she breathed just before he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in an urgent kiss.

His fingers wove through her hair. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her hands splayed across his shoulders. He gently leaned her back until she lie below him completely on the floor.

As the heat of the moment escalated, Barty decided to take a risk and slid a hand up her white blouse. Geneva did nothing in protest and his hand was free to explore as he continued to kiss her deeply.

He had desperately hoped that they would continue down the path they were on, but it seemed other powers had other plans. A sharp pain pulled Barty from the momentary and fleeting bliss he had felt in Geneva's arms as he sat back, gripping his forearm.

Gevena sat up suddenly, concern contorting her features. "Barty, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, gritting his teeth.

She moved forward as if to touch him, but he held out a hand to stop her. Geneva set her jaw, before forcefully moving between his parted legs and pulling his left arm towards her, despite his hardest efforts to prevent her from doing so.

She quickly worked to undo the buttons and pushed his sleeve up, regardless of Barty's protests and awkward squirming.

The sight that greeted Geneva made her jaw drop. There it was, the infamous Dark Mark marring the pale skin of his left forearm.

Geneva dropped his arm as she sat back on her heels. "Barty?" she asked in a shaky voice.

The pain had dulled to a numb throbbing as he hung his head in shame before his best friend. He wiped his moist brow with the back of his other sleeve as he looked down at the Dark Mark. This was not how he had hoped to reveal this to her, if he were to reveal it at all.

"How long have you had that?" she asked, her voice strained.

He shook his head.

"How long?" she repeated, her voice growing stronger.

"Since the beginning of August," he whispered.

"And when were you going to tell me?" she harshly demanded.

He shook his head and bit his lip, his eyes starting to burn. A single, pathetic teardrop fell down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

Geneva had noticed and hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, pulling Barty towards her. Barty buried his face against her chest and enveloped her waist.

"Why?" she whispered against the top of his head. "Do your parents know?"

He shook his head, and she asked nothing further.

Once Barty had collected himself, they disentangled and separated. Geneva stood and pulled her satchel over her shoulder.

After she had crossed the room and reached the door, Barty spoke up, discomforted by her retreating back.

"Do you hate me?" he asked.

Geneva didn't answer, instead wrenching open the door and hurrying to her own common room.

Barty remained in his position on the floor, his dark eyes fixed on the spot he had last seen Geneva's retreating figure, until the fire had finally died.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed the second installment. Part three will be up as soon as I post the next chapter in **_**Wee Birdies Sing**_**. It seems I forgot my usual disclaimer last time, so I would like to acknowledge that all you recognize from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. That which you don't recognize is mine. Do me the extreme honor of ****reviewing!**** Yours.**


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